


Ever The Same

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-03
Updated: 2010-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai comes home to a clean house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever The Same

He comes home to a clean house.

This is not _entirely_ novel, truly. But he had spent the day preparing, mentally, for the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the overflowing ashtrays, and Gojyo’s dirty socks hidden between the sofa cushions.

But the house is completely clean.

Upon closer inspection, the kitchen and living room is not the end of the cleanliness. The bathroom has been scrubbed and three loads of laundry have been done, even _folded_. The bedspread has been changed, the thin, navy-blue summer afghan exchanged for the heavy, burnt orange down comforter they use through the winter. Hakkai can only just remember mentioning in passing a few nights before that he was thinking of taking that out, now that there is frost at night.

Hakuryuu is asleep on the old recliner – the one Hakkai has been trying to banish to the junkyard for years, but Gojyo is still obscenely attached to – as if nothing untoward has happened.

Hakkai stands for a moment in the center of the small kitchen and considers what to do. It is far too early to be starting dinner, so instead he takes a book from the shelf – he has read it a dozen or more times, but that’s the same for all the books on the shelf – and settles on the sofa to read.

\----

Gojyo appears sometime just before six, with a small box under one arm wrapped in colourful paper. Hakkai recognizes it as Castella from the local bakery. He produces a paper bag from inside his coat and unveils a bottle of plum wine. Hakkai is faintly perturbed, but also amused.

“Hey man,” Gojyo leans back against the counter. Out of the corner of his eye Hakkai can see that his smile is no different than usual, “how’s it going?”

“Very well, thank you Gojyo,” Hakkai answers with a smile of his own, holding out the spoon from the stew-pot, hand cupped underneath to catch the stray drippings of gravy. Gojyo takes it, unprompted.

“Mmm good. Hot, but good.”

Hakkai chuckles, tastes it himself, and adds a dash more pepper, “Could you get out some bowls Gojyo?”

Gojyo doesn’t just get the bowls down from the cupboard, he sets the table – placemats, bowls and chopsticks, glasses for the plum wine, plates for the Castella and a knife to slice it with, along with the nice cloth napkins. Hakkai honestly didn’t know he was aware of where those were kept.

Dinner is otherwise normal. They discuss Hakkai’s students and the odd jobs Gojyo is working around town – fixing this roof, finishing those cabinets, putting up a fence here and there; nothing glamorous but more reliable than nights of poker. They both drink a little too much wine.

Finally, Hakkai suggests that they take their dessert in the living-room. Gojyo takes the Castella and the plates to the low coffee table then chases Hakuryuu out of his chair, makes himself comfortable and lights up his after dinner cigarette while Hakkai makes a pot of tea.

Halfway though his piece of cake, Hakkai finally thinks of the words to ask the question that has been gnawing at him all afternoon.

“Did I do something particularly generous for you lately Gojyo?”

Gojyo licks sticky crumbs off the back of his fork, gives the question a moment’s consideration. “No,” he says finally, “not that I can think of. Why?”

“Ah...” Hakkai laughs awkwardly; he was honestly hoping the answer would be ‘yes’, because then things would make at least a trace of sense. “Well – I suppose because...You cleaned the house.”

“So?” Gojyo shrugs, “You cooked dinner.”

Hakkai considers his last bite of cake and then passes the plate to Hakuryuu, who is waiting anxiously on the floor. “You changed the bedspread.”

He must be hitting a little closer to home, because Gojyo’s cheeks colour slightly, “Well, I saw it back in the closet when I was getting out my good jacket – I just remembered you saying how you were cold the last few nights is all.”

That wasn’t exactly what he had said, but the logic is nonetheless sound. Still, Hakkai presses ahead.

“You did the laundry Gojyo. You brought home wine. And cake.”

“What’s wrong with me wanting to do something nice for you once and a while huh? It’s not like you don’t do that kind of housekeeping shit all the time – the least I can do once and awhile is get off my lazy, high-maintenance ass and return the favour.”

Hakkai laughs, so hard he has to set his cup of tea back on the table for fear of splashing it all over and scalding himself. “Gojyo – please – you don’t honestly think you’re ‘high maintenance’ do you?”

Gojyo actually looks a little hurt, “You pick up my dirty socks Hakkai!”

Hakkai lets him smoulder for a moment, running things over in his mind.

“Gojyo,” he says finally, patiently, “I think perhaps you are somewhat misguided.”

The red-head grumbles, pulls one knee up against his chest. His sock has a slight hole in the toe, which Hakkai thinks he will darn up later, perhaps in the morning before classes. Hakuryuu has finished licking the plate clean, so Hakkai picks it up and sets it back on the table. Finally, he stands and walks over to Gojyo, who is looking sullenly at the hole in the toe of his sock. It’s a good time to set things to rights before he decides to try mending it.

“Gojyo,” he says gently, “I have never felt put-upon taking care of you. Truthfully, I rather enjoy it.”

“I’m a grown-ass man Hakkai,” he sounds a little bitter now, “I should be able to look after myself.”

“And you can,” Hakkai smiles, “you did - quite well actually, before I came along. Relying on me for certain things does not make you high-maintenance, I promise.”

“I rely on you for too friggin’ much.”

Hakkai shakes his head, nudges Gojyo’s leg until he places his foot back on the floor, “Tell me Gojyo – what does it take to make you happy on any given day?”

“Smokes.”

Hakkai snorts softly and Gojyo blushes.

“Something to drink,” he continues finally, “good food, clothes to wear, a place to sleep, a decent conversation maybe.” He pauses, licks his lips and locks his gaze with Hakkai’s. “You.”

Hakkai’s stomach does an almost uncomfortable flip-flop. He shouldn’t be so wonderfully surprised by the words, but then again, he always is.

“Well,” he smiles wryly as he climbs into the chair, straddling Gojyo’s lap, “Then you are, in fact, incredibly low-maintenance, as all these things are readily attainable.”

Gojyo smirks, slides one hand up the back of Hakkai’s shirt and kisses his chin, “How readily?”

“Very readily,” Hakkai starts unbuttoning Gojyo’s shirt, kisses the hollow of his throat, sucks on the skin just hard enough to make it turn red. “Especially the last one.”

“Lucky me then.”

\---

Hakkai almost wishes Gojyo had taken the time to air the spread out before he put it on the bed – it smells faintly of cardboard and the old leather of Gojyo’s favourite jacket – but it’s hard to worry about such things for more than a few seconds when Gojyo is moving inside him with such purpose, hands sliding reverently over Hakkai’s body; and when Hakkai arches his back _just so_ against the mattress the pleasure is like lightning up his spine and out thorough his fingers and toes, almost too intense to be real.

There is probably some unwritten rule asserting that after so many years it cannot possibly still be so _good_, but Hakkai is hardly going to argue with the fact that it _is_.

Afterwards, the bedspread is a mess and so are they, but chores are the furthest thing from Hakkai’s mind as he tangles his legs comfortably with Gojyo’s and presses his face against the other man’s tanned neck, breathing in his scent and letting a sensation which can only be complete contentment spread though his whole body.

“You really don’t mind, huh?” Gojyo’s voice, a little hoarse, breaks the comfortable silence finally.

“Mind what, Gojyo?”

“Taking care of me.”

Hakkai is right on that hazy boundary between wakefulness and blissfully satiated sleep, so although he wants to say something profound and comforting, he’s not sure he entirely succeeds when he murmurs, “We take care of each other Gojyo. That’s the way it’s always been.”

-End-


End file.
